Sandor's Birdling
by nhsansanfan
Summary: Love and hate are very passionate feelings, Arya and Sandor are wrapped up in tragedy and a common love and a bond is made. They realize they have more in common than they originally thought. Can they work together to rebuilt the Stark Dynasty or will their past animosity make it impossible? slow burn.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: The characters belong to GGRM, I make no profit. My fanfic writing is for my own, personal amusement. That being said, your input is most welcomed. I have become obsessed with San/San as of late. I did, however, read a very interesting fanfic with a different perspective. Wolf and Dog written by Tarja the wind witch. Unfortunately, there are only 3 chapters and she is no longer writing on this site. It is listed as one of my _favorites._ Now, I am sure my story will raise some controversy. I think in the AU fan fic world it could be possible for Sandor and Arya to have a _ship_. They really do have much in common. Enjoy and happy reading. Reviews are encouraged and appreciated.

Chapter One

Sandor sat in the warm, dark room. He thought how far he had come, they had come. After a time in the Quiet Isles, he had left, to follow a rumor he heard; that Sansa Stark was in the Eyrie, captive of Littlefinger. The rumors had been true. Sandor had found Sansa and pledged his sword her, asked her forgiveness for what had transpired at the Blackwater and had taken her away from the Eyrie. Their escape had not been without incident, but they remained mostly unscathed. The politics were too dire in Westeros, so they had taken a boat to Braavos. Along the way their relationship had changed. Underlying feelings had come to fruition and Sansa had given herself completely to Sandor. Always the proper Lady, they said their vows with the Ship's captain as the witness to validate their union before it was consummated. Due to excitement of daring escape and lack of herbs on the ship, one thing lead to another and when the ship landed in Braavos, Sansa was with child.

Their life in Braavos was different than it had been before. Sandor was largely an unknown beyond the realm, so he did not have to take measures to disguise himself, as if that would really do him any good. Sansa was so ill with her pregnancy; she was abed most of the time. They financed their lifestyle with the jewels she had smuggled out of the Eyrie. Sandor was very worried for his Little Bird. They further she progressed, the more ill she became. He consulted a midwife, she suggested the combination of the escape, ship ride and carrying what she estimated was a large baby were the main causes of the malaise. Every woman adapted to pregnancy differently, and with Sansa's fragile constitution, growing a babe was more difficult on her than others. The midwife had suggested they hire a handmaid to care for Sansa and for both of them when the babe came.

Sansa labored for over 2 days to bring forth their daughter. The baby was a big and healthy, dark haired beauty, with those familiar Tully Blue eyes. Sansa on the other hand, was drained. She was bleeding and the prognosis wasn't good. Sandor was a wreck. He was torn. He was horrified that his seed could be the ultimate cause of his Little Bird's demise. On the other hand, he was delighted with his daughter. His heart had swelled with a love he had not thought possible. The babe was well tended by the kind and loving maid who fed and cuddled the baby girl as if she were kin. Sandor kept vigil with his Little Bird, as she was in and out of consciousness.

As he sat in her room, his thoughts were interrupted by Sansa's fluttering eyelids. Her voice, dry and parched, she whispered "How is the baby?" Sandor brought some sweet water to Sansa's lips and helped her drink. He gently tucked her hair behind her ears, "Our little lass is just fine, Little Bird. That nurse, Nan, takes good care of the babe. She's feeding her goat's milk as we speak. You can tell she's my daughter, the way she suckles the milk out of a clean wineskin! You're the one I am worried about."

Sansa smiled at him weakly and patted his hand. "What shall we call our daughter?" She whispered.

Sandor smiled at his wife, "Lemoncake?" He teased.

She smiled a watery smile at him, her eyes shining. "Jonquil?"

She closed her eyes and took her last breath.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N GRRM will prob. Kill off my favorite characters, we all know how he feels about fan fiction. These characters are his creation; I am just taking liberties, in which I receive no financial gain.

Chapter 2

Nan, the maid came into the room when she heard Sandor's wails. He had his head on Sansa's stomach, he was sobbing. Nan tentatively put her hand on Sandor's shoulder, while she held the baby with her other arm. Sandor, growled at her, looking up, "What do you want?" He was taken aback to see the girl looking at him sharply. It was as though he was noticing her for the first time. He was surprised to see tears in her eyes as well. He had no idea that in the few months that she has come to work for them, she cared for Sansa so much. Women mystified Sandor. He didn't know what to make of them, what to do or say or how to act. The thought that he now had the sole responsibility to raise one, let alone one that might just be the sole surviving heir to the Stark Dynasty, made him wail louder.

"Pull yourself together" Nan's voice said to him, not unkindly.

He continued to look at her; there was something about her, not her face per se. Not anything in particular, but she was familiar to him. She caught him staring at her and she turned away. Sandor thought nothing of it, assuming that she was either grieving herself or giving him the courtesy to let him grieve alone. That was not the case, when she turned back around, she was no longer the plain maid Nan, but an almost grown Arya Stark.

Sandor's jaw dropped. He thought it was stress and fatigue that was altering his vision. He shook his head. He thought back, he had conquered his drinking problem back on the Quiet Isle, so it wasn't a consequence of his drinking. "What the fuck?" is all Sandor could manage.

Arya just looked at him, tall and lithe, not a beauty like Sansa was, but Arya had grown into a striking woman, a regal looking northern beauty. "I thought you were dead." Was all she said. "When I left you, I sailed here to Braavos. I've been here the whole time. Then one day a few months ago, I saw you in the market. I followed you and well, you know the rest of the story."

"But your face." Sandor stammered

"Please, you're one to talk, Hound." Arya replied, scathingly

"No, that isn't what I meant" Sandor started again, "Are you a _faceless man_?" He was incredulous, but as he thought about it, it made sense.

"Yes, I was part of the sect. When I saw you and found out about Sansa and the baby, I knew I wanted to be with her and the baby. I asked permission to leave, I was granted permission, because even though I was _No One_, I couldn't forget Arya. So, I turned into Nan, I was able to help care for Sansa and now I can be with my niece. I can't change what happened between me and Sansa, but I was the sister she needed these past few months and now I can be a good aunt to the baby. Must we really call her Jonquil? "

Sandor was still speechless. Arya had it all figured out of course, but what was the plan? Bloody hells, he certainly wasn't going to give up his baby girl.

"You have a plan, I am assuming?" Sandor rasped.

"Of course I do." Arya replied, "I will continue to be Nan, until it is safe for me to be otherwise. I'll continue to be the baby's nurse and we travel back to Westeros. You'll be yourself, as you can't disguise yourself. The baby can be a bastard, it doesn't really matter. Hopefully Littlefinger didn't advertise that you were the one who kidnapped Sansa. I'll bet he was too embarrassed that she escaped. We steer clear of the Eyrie, and we bide our time and find out what is going on in the North and once it is safe we reclaim our seat in House Stark. Granted, it is going to be more complicated than that, it will take years, but that is the jist. You have no other plans, so we can work the details out along the way."

"How do I know you won't kill me and steal my birdling?"

Arya groaned, "You were pissed when I wouldn't kill you and now you're afraid I'll kill you. Seven Hells. Also, I don't hate you anymore. I changed my mind when I saw that you truly loved Sansa and Birdie. Granted, I don't really like you, but you're off my list."

"That is a relief," Sandor rasped, without a trace of mirth.

They spent the rest of the day making the proper preparations for Sansa. The Silent Sisters were trusted with the remains and with the understanding that word would be sent to them sooner, hopefully than later, to send the remains to Winterfell so a Stark could spend eternity in the proper home.

Then Sandor, Arya (back to Nan) and Birdie began to plan their trip back to Westeros.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N, GRRM's characters, my muse.. No income for me. Many thanks to the readers who are following this story. As always, reviews are welcomed and most appreciated. SPOILER ALERT! Many apologies for the delay of this next chapter, I struggled with how to make it realistic. The prologue of the story is that Sandor did help Arya bypass the red wedding; Arya did leave Sandor to die by the Trident, Sandor survived on the Quiet Isle, but left to help Sansa escape Baelish in the Vale. Chapter one of this story summarizes, quickly, what happened after the escape from the Vale.

Chapter 3

Sandor grieved for the loss of his Lady Love, but he was unable to linger and dwell in his despair because he had to care for the needs of his little baby. Sandor's little baby was not really little, in respect to other newborns, Birdie, formally known as Lady Jonquil Stark Clegane, looked like a 3 month old at birth. She was over 10 lbs at birth and nearly 23 inches long, with a goodly supply of goat's milk, she was gaining weight at a healthy, rapid pace. Nan wore her swaddled to her body; it kept her right next to her heart. The babe was snuggly and warm, very contented to sleep all the time, cooing when she was hungry and then lovingly held and fed by either her father or aunt.

Arya and Sandor fell into an awkward routine, sharing the many parenting responsibilities. They were weary of each other, especially with the past hurts and betrayals not healed. Arya would shed her disguise when they were alone, so the baby would be used to both faces of her aunt. Sandor was not used to the face changes, so he was continually surprised to discover which character to whom he was speaking. On more than one occasion he would accuse Arya or Nan of changing faces excessively just to confuse him, but he could not dispute that Arya was a capable nurse and loved that baby as much as he did. Though neither one spoke of it, they were both thankful that they did not have to raise Birdie alone.

Sandor spent the first few weeks after Birdie's birth scouting out the harbor for possible passages back to Westeros. More importantly, he would listen to the gossip and politics going on there. Daenerys Targaryen, The Dragon Queen, was the winner of the "War of the Five Kings" as that unfortunate war and time in history was known. Most of the major houses were in disarray following the many years of war and hardships. Sandor was apprehensive to bring his child and her aunt back to Westeros and present them as the last remaining Starks. Sandor was not confident that Jon Snow's (now to be revealed as none other than Jon Targaryen, the love child of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen) affection for Arya would outweigh the hatred Queen Daenerys felt toward the Clegane family for the senseless slaughter of Queen Dany's family, for which Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that Rides, was responsible. Sandor didn't think that is made much difference to the Queen that Gregor was dead. He wanted to discuss this predicament with Arya, he was on his way home when he was distracted by news of a Greyscale epidemic that was plaguing Westeros. This news of infectious disease helped Sandor make his decision, for the time being, until the outbreak was contained and they had reliable word from Jon Snow, Sandor and the girls would remain in Braavos until they were assured safety and their station upon returning. Sandor suspected that they might be living in Braavos, under the guise of commoners, for the next few years, and frankly, he was ok with that.

Sandor walked in the door of their modest 2 bedroom home. He was surprised to see dinner cooking on the coals. He heard Arya singing to the babe. He watched her swaddle Birdie and place her in her "nest" as they called her cradle. Arya slept in the nursery with Birdie, but many nights Sandor would bring the nest into his room and care for his daughter. Arya came out of the nursery and noticed Sandor appreciatively appraising the domesticity of the situation. Arya raised an eyebrow toward Sandor, challenging him to say something about her housekeeping, cooking or childrearing. Sandor clearly had no complaints, so Arya continued walking toward the kitchen and began to plate the food for their dinner.

Neither one of them fancied manners much, so they sat at the table, eating hungrily and not saying much. Arya looked at him again, with a mouth full of roasted fish, but she didn't say anything.

Sandor chewed and swallowed, wondering what was going on with Arya. He knew from experiences that she wasn't one to keep her complaints to herself or suffer in silence.

"Out with it." He rasped.

Arya looked at him, chagrined that he knew her well enough to know she had something on her mind.

What Sandor didn't expect was a wry smile "People at the market really like Nan and the baby. I got you a surprise."

He choked a little on his mouth full of food. Arya waited until he was done coughing "I know we are on a budget. We're biding our time here, I know you don't drink like you used to. In fact, I see that the most you ever drink is a little watered wine or some ale now and then. That is an improvement." She began. "So, at the market today, the brewer, who usually gives Nan complimentary ale to help her produce milk like the good wet nurse she is," Arya explained, "the brewer is out of beer, that is why we don't have any with dinner tonight." She said.

"That isn't a very good surprise." Sandor told her, "Some might call that disappointing news."

Arya looked at him in mild amusement, "Stupid, I'm not done with my story."

Sandor forgot how annoying Sansa's little sister could be. "Could you hurry the story along?"

"Very well," Arya began, "The vintner likes Nan too, and he took pity on her, so he gave her a flask of Dornish Red." She grinned at Sandor, dangling the wineskin in front of him.

After they cleaned up from their dinner Sandor and Arya would sit outside and enjoy the Braavosi weather and look at the stars. They would discuss things that happened that day and Westeros gossip while they sharpened and polished their respective weapons.

"What are you smirking about?" Arya asked the Big Man who was savoring his special treat...

"I'm not smirking" he rasped, "I was thinking about Birdie. You always put her to sleep in your room. That way you can hog her. You never let me hold her." He teased.

Arya glared at him, "Stupid, it would draw attention to us even more, to see a big, ugly man carrying around a little baby. That is why I am disguised as Nan. Plus, you always are reaching for your sword, threatening to wave it about. How are you going to do that with a baby in your arms?"

Since Sandor did not have a good retort, he snorted and turned his back to Arya.

"I miss her." Arya whispered to Sandor. Arya still couldn't comprehend the love between her sister and the man formerly known as the Hound. Both Arya and Sandor had not had enough time with Sansa; both having regret for how they felt they had let her down. They were thankful they had made up for some of that lost time and they both loved Birdie. That baby could not have wished for 2 more fierce protectors. Arya leaned over and put her head on Sandor's shoulder. He leaned back and put his head on top of her head. "I heard some interesting things at the port today, Wolf" Sandor began to tell Arya his opinions about staying in Braavos a little longer.

"So, if we're going to stay here a while longer, what are we going to do for gold? I have some saved from my _faceless_ days, but it won't last forever. We're a pack now, like it or not" She told him all this very kindly.

"Aye, We can't do it alone." he agreed, surprised by his unexpected feelings of gratitude that Arya would offer to help support them. Sandor wasn't surprised, per se; he knew better than most how fiercely independent Arya was. Sometimes the differences between the 2 Stark girls were mind blowing to him. Where Arya was independent, almost to the point where Sandor forgot she was in fact a high born lady and he would treat her like an equal, Sansa had been naïve, insecure, nervous and clingy. Sansa had always needed him. He was her strength and she was his incentive to be a better person. Sandor was loathe to admit, but in many ways, he now needed Arya. It was almost a relief to Sandor that Arya could physically and emotionally handle whatever came their way. He didn't need to worry about her or protect her, the way he did for Sansa. When Sandor came home, he truly came home to an equal. Arya had never been a flighty teenage girl and she certainly was not one now, at the ripe old age of 17.

"As for gold," Sandor began, "I can find a job as a sell sword. I won't have to be gone for long amounts of time, just enough to earn the coin we need."

"And if we run low," Arya interrupted "I am certain the guild will hire me for quickie job, whenever they have a particular job where I'd excel." She exclaimed, winking at him.

Sandor rumbled a laugh, "What would Sansa think of a sell sword and an assassin supporting her daughter?"

Arya just rolled her eyes. "She'd hate it but be thankful that we weren't trying to kill each other."

Sandor nodded in agreement. He finished his wineskin, thinking to himself how strange the world that the two people who would know the man, Sandor Clegane, the best were the two daughters of Winterfell.


End file.
